


Nosocomephobia

by caityjay



Series: Touch the Ground [10]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caityjay/pseuds/caityjay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron hates hospitals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nosocomephobia

Aaron tried hard to steady his breathing. After nearly a month of dealing with the persistent headaches and dizziness, he'd finally let Jamie talk him into seeing a doctor. When she'd frowned and suggested an MRI, he'd gone more or less catatonic. And now he was stuck waiting for the results of a scan he'd had to be drugged nearly to unconsciousness in order to take.

He hated hospitals. He hated the doctors and nurses in their scrubs and white shoes. Hated the gowns, hated the latex gloves, hated the shiny metal instruments. But most of all, he hated the machines. His mother had died hooked up to those machines. The beeping, and the tubes, the needles and the tape. Even after nearly twenty years, it hurt.

And it terrified him. 

Jamie's steady hand on the back of his neck did little to ease the constant, pressing pain in his skull, the roiling anxiety in his stomach. They'd moved out into a well-tended courtyard and were seated on a secluded bench. If Aaron focused on the bright green of the budding trees and the sweet smell of daphne, he could almost forget where he was. What he was waiting for.

Aaron swallowed hard around a lump in his throat, his husband muttering assurances in his ear. Thank God for Jamie. Aaron didn't know how he did it, but his husband always knew when Aaron wouldn't hear whatever he was saying but needed him to say it anyway. Jamie knew when Aaron needed his hand squeezed gently, his neck stroked with soft fingertips, his body held secure against something solid. 

Because he would be falling apart without him. Every time he walked through the halls, every time a nurse spoke to him in that tone that was meant to be calming and comforting and was anything but, he was twelve years old and his mother was dying all over again. His father was drinking too much, and his family was falling apart.

It had taken Aaron thirteen years to build the family he had now. He couldn't bear the thought of the same illness that had torn up his first family doing it to this one, too.

"I'm right here," he heard through the fog of fear and anticipation. "I'm not going anywhere."

And Aaron found his face buried in his lover's shoulder, tears squeezing their way past his lashes, fingers clutching desperately at the soft cotton of Jamie's shirt. "I'm scared," he heard himself say, voice muffled. He didn't want to admit it; he'd always tried to be the strong one. So far he hadn't done a very good job of it. "I'm so scared."

Jamie just held him. He held him tight, rocking back and forth ever so slightly, singing softly under his breath, and after a few minutes Aaron felt his stomach begin to settle. The headache stayed, and tears darkened Jamie's shirt, but Aaron was able to breathe.

"It'll be alright," Jamie said, and he sounded so certain that Aaron started to believe him. "You'll be alright." Warm lips pressed into his hair. "We'll be alright."

**Author's Note:**

> Found this little gem in a random folder on my hard drive the other day :)


End file.
